


Sweet Child

by PrettyOkayGatsby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Mentions of child neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyOkayGatsby/pseuds/PrettyOkayGatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Tuesdays, he's a teddy bear doctor. The rest of the time? He beats up Bad Men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Child

Dean plops him down on the carpeted floor across from her. She does not look up from her teddy, fingering the hole in his belly.

"Hey there," he says gently. "Who's your friend?"

_(He still really, really hates teddy bears.)_

"Marmo," she responds.

"Looks like Marmo's pretty banged up."

She hugs him close to her and her bright brown eyes shine mistrustfully at him. "He was protecting me from the Bad Man!" she said, scowling.

He holds up his hands. "I'm sorry," Dean said. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"You didn't hurt my feelings, stupid," she says. "But you have to 'pologize to Marmo."

"I'm sorry, Marmo," he says, trying to sound sincere. The bear stares at him as the girl plays with his arms.

"Who are you anyway?"

"Well, I'd tell you but you'd have to keep it a secret."

She looks up, suddenly interested.

"I'm the best at keeping secrets," she says, "ask anyone."

"That's good because I need someone trustworthy to tell this secret."

She leans forward, bright eyes glistening.

"I'm trustworthy!" she says eagerly.

"I'm a Good Guy," he whispers. "It's my job to keep the Bad Men away." He smiled at her stunned look. "And on Tuesdays, I'm a teddy bear doctor."

"Really?" she looks about ready to explode from excitement.

"Really," he says.

"Can you look at Marmo for me?"

He takes the stuffed animal gently. "Hmm, hmm, hmm," he hums, tapping his head and lifting its limbs. "Just as I thought."

"What is it? Is he going to be okay?"

"Marmo is very sick," he says seriously. "He has the Candy Corn Cold."

"Ew," she wrinkles her nose. "Candy Corn."

"Yup, and a hole in his belly but I can fix that." He takes a bandana from his pocket and rips it into strips. It's a bit greasy from wiping down the impala earlier in the day but it'll do. He wraps it around the rip carefully and ties the knot into a big bow. "Just leave that on there for awhile and he'll be good as knew."

She takes the bear reverently. "Thank you, mister."

"Just my job, kid."

She buries her face in the bear, sniffling its faux fur. "Mister?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you really keep out the Bad Men?"

"Yes," he said and scooted over to her. "It's in my job description. Bad Men, weirdos, bullies, I keep an eye on all of them and make sure they don't hurt any of the Good Guys."

"My mommy said there were Bad Men outside. She said I had to wait here."

"Kid, I-"

"My name is Melanie."

"Melanie, you don't have to wait here anymore."

"Mommy says I have to. Mommy says the Bad Men will come get me if I disobey. Mommy says I'm a bad-"

"Melanie, listen here," he cuts in and his voice is stern. "You are not a bad kid. I know bad kids. You're a great girl and if you don't want to wait here any longer, you don't have to."

She sniffs, nose dripping snot. "Sometimes I here my daddy," she mumbles, "Sometimes I hear the Bad Men. I'm scared."

"I promise, Melanie, nothing bad is going to happen to you. I'm here to help you."

"I thought you were a teddy bear doctor?"

He leans over and rests a hand on her head. He ruffles her wild hair. "Sometimes people need a doctor, too."

"I went to the doctor when I was sick. Am I sick?"

"You're not sick, Melanie. You're doing great. I need you to do me a favor now."

"Huh?"

He breathed out hard and took her hands, letting the bear slip into her lap. "I need you to keep calm."

She frowned at him. "I don't get it."

"Melanie, you're dead."

She jerked back. "No, I'm not," she said. "I was alive a minute ago."

"Melanie, you need to go now."

"I can't go!" she shouted. "Mommy said I'm not supposed to!" A painting flew off the wall and headed straight for Dean, catching him on the shoulder.

He did not flinch, did not remove himself.

"You can't stay here any longer, Melanie, you need to go to Heaven."

"Bad kids don't go to Heaven."

"Then it's a good thing you're not a bad kid."

"I'm scared," she whispered, "what if I go to the _other place_?"

He bit his lip. "Listen here, kiddo, I got a friend who works up in Heaven. His name's Castiel and I can pretty much 100% guarantee you that you're going to Heaven. I think he'll really like you."

"Can you come with me? Just to make sure I'm okay?"

"Sorry, Melanie, but there are a lot of kids down here that need my help. I have to look after them too."

"That makes sense, I guess," she swallowed. "Will there be kids in Heaven for me to play with?"

"Tons."

"And snacks?"

"Yup."

"Oh," she murmured. "Heaven sounds pretty."

"It really is."

"I wanna go now."

"Okay, just close those pretty eyes for me and listen."

She squeezed them shut and waited. "I hear my grandma. And my daddy."

He let go of her hands as she began to glow. "Go, have fun."

She faded away gradually as did the walls until the faded out playroom was stripped back to the modern day office. Dean stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants. He thumped down the stairs, grinning.

"Problem solved, once again by my charming self."

Mr. and Mrs. Vantas stared at him.

"But-but your brother here was just t-te-telling us that we might need a-"

"Nope, all taken care of," he said, interrupting the stuttering man, "let's roll, Sammy. Call us if anything else happens but I don't think you'll need to."

Sammy trailed after his brother, confused. "That's really it?" he asked, clambering into the Impala. "Really?"

"Yup," he smirked, peeling out of the driveway. "Open and shut. I always had a way with the ladies."

"So you just talked to her? Into not being a ghost anymore? How does that even work?" he asked incredulously.

"I don't know but I did it. Can I get a round of applause here? Got paid and we didn't even have to dig up any bodies. I say we count that as a win."

Sam relaxed into his seat. "You were always good with kids, _Doctor Dean_ ," he teased.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up, would you, Sammy? Next time you talk to the child poltergeist."

"No, man, you did good, I'm just saying you missed your calling-"

"Shut up," he said and cranked up the volume.

_...I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain..._

_Good luck up there, kid._


End file.
